Flexible Moral Compass
by Florafiora
Summary: What she needed was a club owner with a flexible moral compass. What she found was one with no compass at all. But what started out as a business arrangement, spins right out of her perfectly manicured hands.
1. A Business Proposal

What she needed was a club owner with a flexible moral compass. What she found was one with no compass at all. All the better for her little business venture. It had taken weeks for all the dots to connect just right. Schmoozing, flattering, and flirting her way through all the lower level thugs and nobodies, clawing her way slowly up the ladder was exhausting and tedious but finally she was put in touch with someone who mattered. From what she understood, he may have been the only constant in the ever changing stable around the big boss.

Johnny Frost sounded like a no-nonsense, professional sort of man on the phone. Interested, he said, but he didn't call the shots. A date and time followed by text. No further details to be communicated by phone. Neither of them was stupid enough to leave a digital paper trail.

She'd been elated. A beautiful, delicious pay off for so much hard work. The fruit of her labour was within reach and she couldn't wait to roll in it. She didn't share with her girls yet, not until it was set in stone. Priding herself on her achievement, she felt sure and in control.

That delusion had gone out the window the second she had stepped into his VIP room. The sight of him alone made her want to tuck tail and run. His reputation was unnerving, but her recent success had inflated her ego and made her bolder. She thought that she could handle him. After all, he was a man, and manipulating men was what she excelled at. Built an entire business on it actually. But this man wasn't just a man. Leaned back against the couch with his hands crossed on top of his cane, he was a sight to behold. His appearance demanded attention and a look that should have been ridiculous looked regal and intimidating. The Joker looked deranged and _mean, _like he would bite if she got too close.

She had come to the meeting alone and unarmed, a gesture of good will. Briefly she wondered if that had been a mistake. Both the Joker and Johnny were obviously armed, not the mention what could be hiding under the expensive suit jackets of the guards littered throughout the club. Although against that kind of fire power she doubted her own shitty aim would do her any good.

"Have a seat." Johnny gestured to the wraparound couch and vanished beyond the doorway just as quickly as he had appeared to her in the crowd below. Perching a respectful distance from the criminal clown she crossed her legs and waited. The Joker had yet to acknowledge her, staring off through the beaded dividers at something on the dance floor. She thought it best not to disturb his creepy trance and took the time to regroup herself and reconsider her strategy. She was a professional smooth talker, but she'd only ever taken money from men by trickery, not ever by inviting them in on her business. But now she was here and the money she could make if this worked out had her salivating. She simply could not fuck this up. That could not only cost her huge potential earnings but possibly her life. She swallowed down her anxiety and breathed. She'd let him lead, let him show her what kind of man he was so she could bend him exactly to her will.

She had drifted off in thought herself when suddenly a deeply unsettling laughter brought her back to the moment. She glanced over to the Clown Prince and her heart thudded a little harder. He was finally looking at her, his hand covering his mouth, a grotesque mouth stretched into a huge smile tattooed on the back of it. She offered a shy smile in return, although she wasn't in on the joke.

"And _who _are you, sweetness?" He pulled away his hand and turned to her, leaning his cane against the table in front of him. His eyes roved over her. She was dressed to kill in a skin tight, blood red dress, sweeping low in the front and ending just at her knees. A bold red lip matched it perfectly. "A sight for sore eyes, for one," he drawled. She felt nauseous with nerves.

"And a very good friend too," she replied before he could continue. She leaned forward, giving him a great look down her dress. That caught his attention and her smile turned mischievous. Once his eyes returned to her face, she winked. At that his non-eyebrows shot up and he cackled again, throwing his head back.

"My, oh, my, I do love having such _fiery _friends," he growled. "But tell me, doll face, what exactly does our friendship entail."

"I have a business proposal, you see, Mister, uh…." She faltered. Calling him Joker seemed odd and clunky but she knew no other name for him.

"Jay. Call me Jay, sweet cheeks," he filled in for her. He beckoned her to come closer and she obliged, sidling over until they were side by side. He hummed in his throat approvingly and draped an arm around her shoulders. "Much better. Now, tell daddy about this business."

"You see, my lovely associates and I have found that when a man finds himself in the company of some beautiful women, he becomes a little distracted, a little inattentive." The Joker was anything but distracted, staring directly into her eyes, his fingers dancing over her shoulder and playing with the ends of her hair. "So inattentive, in fact, that he might not notice when a little something extra is added to his cocktail and his credit cards leave his wallet."

The Joker was grinning down at her and grunted his approval for her to continue.

"Now our dear gentleman, when he wakes up safely and soundly in his bed the next morning, will find that he spent quite a bit of money and he might be a little upset." She placed her hand on his chest and drew her eyebrows together in an expression of mock concern. "But although he might not remember, he'd given up his credit card pin all by himself, with no undo pressure, so it's all fair and square in the end, isn't it?"

Jay leaned in closer bringing his other hand to rest on her knee, toying with the hem of her dress. She made herself focus away from that. She couldn't let this slip entirely out of her control. If she became his little plaything, sooner or later, most likely sooner, he'd get his fill and lose interest, sending her whole operation to square one again. It didn't matter if the way his unbuttoned shirt hung open made her want to lick her way down or that the smell of his cologne made her want to bury her face in his neck.

"That's a very nice story, sweetness, really, but, uh, why are you telling _me_?" he asked. He'd grabbed her leg behind the knee and pulled so that it was draped over both of his. She was almost ready to panic. He was a whole lot more aggressive and forward than she had been prepared for. Pulled in close and completely at the mercy of his hands, she felt vulnerable. Something told her that this was entirely intentional. You didn't get to be the Crime Prince of Gotham if you couldn't work people and break them down.

"This whole scenario works best when we have a place to take our special friend, where the staff might provide us with a private room and look the other way when the gentleman falls something short of conscious. Where we don't have to worry about pesky cops breaking up the fun." She'd placed both hands on his chest now, running them up and down. Her touch was soft but she applied some pressure to give herself breathing room. He allowed her to get a few inches of space and then it was like pushing against a statue. He was _strong_ under that shirt. That realisation ran a jolt through her, sparking a heat between her legs. She needed to wrap this up quick. She felt like a silly amateur, but damn it had been so long since she had felt like she was in the arms of a man that she couldn't control.

"Of course, the owner of such an establishment would be_ very _generously compensated for his cooperation," she finished. The Joker wasn't smiling anymore and his hands had stilled on her body. His gaze didn't waiver from her eyes and it took everything in her not to look away in submission.

"How generously?" he asked.

"Fifteen percent," she replied and held her breath. He tutted at her and lifted his hand from her leg to wave a finger in front of her nose.

"You must be _cuh-razy _to think I would take less than fifty, darlin'," he chastised her. The hand that had been at her shoulder climbed up into her hair at the back of her head and tightened into a fist, hard enough to hold her still but not enough to hurt, at least not _too much_. "But, I'm feeling very _generous _tonight since we're such good _friends._" He rolled the R's into proper growls and her heart leapt. "So I will humbly accept forty and we can call it a deal."

His other hand had returned to her leg and climbed a little higher, fingers massaging her thigh. She did some quick calculating in her head. He wanted more than she walked in planning to yield, but it wasn't intolerable. Not having to take their marks to hotel rooms cut a lot of risk and headache from their operation, for which she was willing to pay. It would also make drugging them easier. If the bartenders were in on the jig, there was no need for subtlety and she could have multiple groups of girls working at once in the club. Besides, judging from the gleam in his eye it didn't look like people really said no to Jay and lived to tell the tale. She gave him her best smile, all perfect white teeth.

"If you throw in a little muscle support, should our guest get a little unruly, then you have yourself a deal Mr. J," she told him. He smiled wide and laughed again. Once he was done he brought his hand out of her hair and held the side of her head, thumb gracing along her cheek.

"Oh doll, you are going to be such a good friend, I can just feel it," he announced. He leaned in until his lips were just a hair away from hers. "Do you want me to show you _where _I feel it?" With her leg draped over his lap, she already knew. His cock was half hard against her inner thigh, an insistent heat that made his intentions crystal clear. Before she could come up with a clever reply that would hopefully get her out of this situation, his lips were on hers and he was forcing her back onto the leather seat. He was a great kisser, she thought distantly, the kind that took all her attention and made her toes curl in her expensive heels. When she opened her mouth in a surprised gasp, his tongue slipped in and explored her. Giving in, just a little, she returned the favour. It was a sloppy, desperate kiss. He was so _hungry _for her. Pushing up her skirt to mid-thigh, he nestled in between her legs and pressed more of his weight on her. Her hands were still on his chest, but instead of pushing him away like they were supposed to, they had grabbed handfuls of his shirt, pulling him closer. How treacherous her body was.

Her resolve not to sleep with him was fading fast as his hands roamed over ass and his hips ground down against her center. For someone who professionally seduced men, she saw very little actual action. Men were targets to be used for their money, not for pleasure.

Just when she was ready to say fuck it and indulge completely, someone loudly cleared their throat. Jay _growled_, like some wild animal, and in a move too fast to see had his gun out of its holster and pointed at whoever had dared interrupt them. He lowered it just as quickly and she tilted her head back curiously to see who warranted such mercy. Johnny stood in the doorway, looking terribly uncomfortable and looking at a point above the Joker's head.

"Something came up that you're going to want to see," he announced. Jay didn't respond but grunted and waved his gun in a dismissive gesture, his lips pulled back in a teeth baring grimace. Frost didn't hesitate in making himself scarce.

"Well doll, Johnny is a good boy and knows not to bother me unless I am simply _essential_ to the matter," he grumbled above her, framing her face with both hands. The butt of his gun was a cold, hard pressure against her cheek. She shivered. The business end of it was alarmingly close to her temple. "I am _sooo _glad we got to seal our deal with a kiss, makes business so much _sweeter_." He laughed madly and planted one last sloppy kiss on her forehead. Then he was climbing off of her, re-holstering his gun under his jacket and striding away. She felt suddenly chilled without his heavy heat on top of her. At the door, he suddenly braked and turned back to face her, just as she was righting herself and straightening her dress back to decency. She looked up hesitantly.

"One last thing doll. Ya never did introduce yourself. What should I call ya, hmmmm?" he asked. It was a courtesy really. If they were in business together he would be doing a very thorough background search on her. She grinned broadly and stood up to bob a quick curtsy.

"You can call me anything you like, sugar," she purred, "but my _very _good friends call me Amy."

He grinned at that but said nothing further and walked out, his laughter following him as he quickly melted out of view in the dimly lit interior of the club. Counting backwards from 100, Amy took a deep breath and got the fuck out of there before he could make a re-appearance. She was going to need a couple of stiff drinks to get over this.

_Hope you enjoyed it! This is going to be a fast and fiery ride, 8 chapters max. Their business model comes from the Hustlers movie, but you do not need to have seen that movie for this story to make sense. Xoxo_


	2. A Request

It had been weeks since their meeting and she hadn't so much as caught a glimpse of the Joker. Partly that was because he was in the middle of some sort of turf disagreement with the Penguin which was keeping him busy but also because she avoided the club as much as she could. She was mortified at how easily he had caressed her into a panting mess and didn't need a repeat performance. Frost had laid out how she was to provide Jay with his share: once a week, cash, delivered to the club. She'd been running the deliveries herself, not yet trusting any of the girls not to steal from her. Luckily, she'd only had to deal with Johnny for now. He was brisk, uninterested, and highly professional. That suited her just fine.

Despite her reluctance to go to the club herself, she couldn't step back just yet. Her operation in Gotham was still small - there were only 5 of them, including her. Once she trained the girls to her satisfaction and weeded out those she couldn't trust, she had every intention of fading into a purely supervisory role. When business was booming, she could sit at home sipping champagne while her army of trickster ladies raked in the dough on her behalf. Right up until everything went a little sideways, which it inevitably did, and she had to skip town again.

Business _was_ really picking up. It didn't take a genius to pull off what they did, but it did require a whole lot of feminine charm and a distinct lack of morality. One girl, whoever drew the short straw that night, would be charged with finding their mark. He had to have money, of course, and enough gullibility or ego to believe that four gorgeous women wanted to spend the evening partying with him. For a city as crime infested as Gotham, there was no shortage of naive suckers. Once she chatted him up, her coworkers would materialize seemingly out of thin air and lavish him with just as much enthusiasm. A few drinks later – that they would discreetly toss over their shoulders and he would down in one go - someone would mention how fun it would be to hit up a club. But not just any club. 'Grin and Bare It' was the hottest place in town and also the most exclusive. By some stroke of luck Becky – or Maria, or Amanda, or whoever was playing that role that night- knew a guy who knew a guy who could get them in. No one could pass up the opportunity to see exactly what was hiding beyond those purple doors.

Upon their arrival, they'd be swept up through a secluded entrance to a private room where their mark would have one last drink. This one would hit him hard. Before he could succumb to the darkness, he'd become very malleable, so that when asked for his pins and passwords, he'd give them willingly and without hesitation. Amy still didn't know what exactly went into the drug concoction they slipped their mark and her supplier would never disclose her secrets. She'd worked with other suppliers in other cities but no one provided a product as effective as this one. She didn't mind not knowing, as long as it kept working like a dream. By morning, the mark's credit cards would be maxed out, his bank account emptied, and his memories of the night before barely there. Most of them could hardly recall how many women there had been, much less any distinguishing features.

Joker's club added extra grease to make their operation run smoothly, more so than she had anticipated. Even if their memories were a little less foggy, few wanted to admit to having visited such a notorious establishment. It was the go-to for all those who belonged to Gotham's underbelly and were in the Joker's good graces. Running to the cops saying you'd been robbed at 'Grin and Bare It' would get you laughed out of the station. What did you think was going to happen in there?

Amy was nothing if not meticulous, so she had additionally requested that a blood test would come up clean. Amy really needed to thank the lovely Dr. Isley more thoroughly. Maybe she'd finally agree to the alluring botanist's invitation to dinner. After all, she was barely charging her anything at all for the pills and instead seemed to be fuelled purely by a deep seated desire for vengeance.

Of course, after enough reports that all sounded strangely similar, the cops would start sniffing around. That would be Amy's cue to disband her merry band of thieves and slip quietly to the next unsuspecting city, preferably across the country.

Two months ago she had been in Los Angeles, and while she missed the warmth and the sun, gloomy, rainy Gotham was proving to be highly profitable. The man they had lured in tonight was out cold on the couch, while Becky methodically emptied all his cards. Amy sipped her water, wishing it was something stronger, and waited patiently. They had relieved him of a cool 20k tonight and she was already planning out what luxuries she was going to spend it on.

Unexpectedly, the door to their little room opened just as Amanda and Jennifer were lugging their unconscious friend out. Johnny raised an eyebrow at the poor sucker's form but offered no comment, holding open the door for the girls. Once they were out and Becky followed suit, he turned to Amy.

"Boss will be in later, wants to chat," he told her. Amy held in a groan. She was tired and her feet ached. She wanted nothing more than to collapse in her bed and sleep until noon. But the Joker wouldn't be interested in her excuses.

"Sure," she replied neutrally. Frost didn't lead her to the VIP area like she expected but rather to a dimly lit staircase at the back of the club. At the top of it, he showed her through a door that opened onto an office. He nodded once and left without another word, shutting the door. A man of few words, that one.

A giant black desk sat facing a wall of windows, which looked out over the club below. She now realized that what she had assumed were just regular mirrors, were actually panes of one way observation glass. It was almost silent in this room too, only the vibration of the heavy bass permeating through. Soundproofed. She shivered. Just because she had not seen the Joker did not mean that he had not been watching her. And now he had her in his secret lair.

By the time the Joker arrived, she had half dozed off in his leather chair after having helped herself to a whisky from his private bar. Spotting her lounging there behind his desk, he raised his brows but didn't comment. Her little power play not going unnoticed but also posing no threat to him. A kitten playing at biting the big cat's tail.

"Amy, you have made daddy a very happy man," he told her. "Your little troupe is making me _so _much money." He looked just as dramatic and handsome as the last time she had seen him. A black shirt gaped open to show off his chest and gleaming gold chains. A velvet burgundy jacket matched his loafers, popping against his pale skin. She wondered briefly if he had a stylist or if this almost flamboyant style was all his own making.

"Such _raw _talent in you," he complimented. He poured himself a drink and brought over the bottle of whisky to top her off. She sipped to appease him, mindful not to have too much. She was on the back foot for this meeting, entirely in the dark about what he wanted. She hadn't even noticed until now that he was unaccompanied. Either this was going to be a peaceful conversation or he didn't consider her enough of a threat to need back up.

He leaned against the desk in front of her, one ankle crossed over the other, considering her over the top of his glass.

"That's a big compliment, coming from someone like you Mr. Jay," she purred, batting her eyelashes at him.

Apparently that was the wrong move. Instantly his face twisted into a sneer, his drink abandoned to fall to the carpeted floor with a thud. He surged forward and smacked a hand on each armrest, caging her in. Too terrified to speak, Amy only stared up at him, trying to school her features into the look of serene indifference she certainly did not feel.

"You're not sucking up, are you sweet peach?" he growled. "Because I _really _don't like suck ups." His tongue danced out to flick across his lips. "I don't like people who try _funny shit_ with me. Is that what you're doing? Hmmm? _Hmmmm?"_

He punctuated his questions by leaning closer to her, getting right in her face. Amy didn't flinch away.

"No, sir," she replied quietly. Desperately she tried to figure out what he wanted to hear. Surprisingly, in the end, she settled for the truth. "I'm just pleased that our friendship has been so beneficial to us both."

Just as quickly as the fit of rage had come on, it apparently faded. The Joker threw back his head and roared with laughter. Amy smiled up at him, hoping that she wouldn't have another misstep tonight.

"That pretty little mouth can talk you out of anything, can't it, babydoll?" He had left her to retrieve himself another drink. Behind his back she took a big gulp of hers, hoping it would steel her frazzled nerves. She was seriously wondering if the money was worth working with this unpinned grenade of a man. "Maybe one day we'll see if you can talk your way out of one of those Houdini set ups, hmm?"

And there it was, the wicked appeal of the Joker. She didn't doubt for a second that he would tie her up in a straightjacket and suspend her upside down in a water tank. _If _she displeased him. _If _she got too mouthy. _If. _A terrible threat wrapped up in a madman's ramblings. Ramblings that weren't all that mad. If you knew how to read between the lines, how to taste the feel of the room, you knew exactly what was happening. He wasn't a train off its rails. He was the conductor of the orchestra that was his criminal empire, attuned to every note, sniffing out the ones that were off key. She had acted out a little and he had wasted no time reminding her of her place, finished it off with a warning not to try any of her saccharine shit with him again. A pretty face and some sweet-talking weren't going to work on him.

And _God _how she loved that. To feel for once so entirely out of control, to feel real danger. She was a junkie through and through, chasing the high of a man that could do to her what she had done to so many of them. Wrap her up around his pale finger and leave her begging for more.

Keeping her musings to herself, she silently regarded him with a small smile. The less time she spent with him, the less likely that she would have a chance to act on her urges. She needed so badly to go home and sleep for three days straight.

"How would you like to make daddy even happier?" He finally asked, having finished the drink he poured and now starting on another. Amy's stomach flip flopped. There was no immediate way of telling what he meant by that.

"I think you're going to have to be more specific," she replied with a smirk, "before you get my hopes up." That earned her another big laugh. She rose to her feet to make herself more mobile and was perturbed to discover a slight wobble. _Fuck. _She was tipsier than planned and had just taunted him with a flirty invitation.

"You can make me happy in so many ways," he told her stalking towards the desk. She side stepped away from him to the opposite side, the length of it between them now. He grinned, predatory and intrigued. She only blinked back innocently. "But for starters, I'd like you to deliver something for me."

That surprised her, enough that she was almost too slow to outmaneuver his sudden advance towards her. _Almost. _With less grace than she planned, she made it to the front of the desk. He took her previous position at his grand chair. The distance between them was about an arm's length, close enough for him to grab her. Her stomach flipped when she realized that she didn't so much mind that possibility.

"What would I be delivering?" Amy asked, sounding just a little out of breath. She took two steps back.

"A man," he said simply. "A very slippery man." He moved again and Amy stumbled in her retreat, leaving behind the flimsy heel that slipped off her foot. With the length of the desk between them again, she felt momentarily calmer.

"What did he do to get such special treatment?" She didn't like this. If the Joker was having her trick someone into his clutches, it wasn't for a casual meeting. The Jester of Genocide would do a lot worse than max out his credit cards.

Jay picked up the shoe and Amy almost laughed. Now she was fucking Cinderella. Jay seemed to have the same thought and grinned at her, reaching his arm out and waving the shoe at her, as if to say _come take it. _When she didn't bite, he frowned and set it on the desk between them.

"Let's just say he's very important to someone I don't like very much," he mused. "I would be so _very _grateful if you could procure him so we can have a little chat." Another few steps, limping for her due to the lack of a shoe, brought them back to square one. From her spot behind his desk she could see that there was no way she'd make it past him to the door. Time for a little change of strategy.

Planting her hands firmly on the top, she leaned forward. Tonight's dress featured another jaw dropping view of her cleavage. He took a look, almost despite himself, but his expression remained frowny. She was breaking the rules of their unspoken game of cat and mouse. The point was for him to capture her, not for her to just give herself up.

"Wouldn't be very friendly of you to ask me such a big favour without proper compensation, now would it?" she implored, with a mock hurt expression. That got him to perk up again. He reached forward and brushed the hair that had escaped her fancy up do behind her ear, resting his hand on her cheek.

"Oh I wouldn't dream of taking advantage of you, my dearest," His voice was the sweetest purr. "But you can discuss those _boring_ details with Johnny boy." No doubt Frost already had instructions from the boss about how much to pay her and when. The Joker didn't waste his time with the nitty gritty. That was what he paid people to do.

She allowed him to walk around the desk to join her. Sensually prowl over really. Once at her side, he reached out and pulled her tightly against his body. She rested her hands mildly against his chest, fingers tracing mindless patterns.

"You and I can spend tonight doing much more interesting things," he whispered a breath away from her lips.

"You make a compelling offer, Mr. Jay," she flirted back. Pulling out of his grasp, which he allowed only after copping a feel of her full ass, she backed up until she hit the desk. Hopping up, she sat on the edge and leaned back on her elbows. With a display of impressive – and in his case, arousing – flexibility, Amy hitched her still shoed foot to his shoulder, pushing down to signal that she wanted him on his knees. Jay caught her ankle and pressed it a bit harder towards her shoulder, testing to see just how bendy she was. To his delight, it turned out that the answer was _very_. Deciding to oblige her silent request in exchange for this exciting new discovery, Jay dramatically sank to his knees in front of her. Without hesitation, Amy opened her legs for him, giving him a perfect view of the lace that lay under her tight little dress. Jay licked his lips, looking like a starved man before a feast.

"You look just as good as I had imagined," he hummed.

That ravenous expression on his face and the thought that he had imagined her like this were almost Amy's undoing. But she was a woman of precise control. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, she tucked her knees to her chest and rolled back and off the desk, landing almost perfectly despite the unequal footing. The world spun for a second and her many drinks and little dinner nearly surged to the surface. Taking only another moment to take in his truly shocked expression – undoubtedly a sight few got to see and live to tell the tale - Amy smiled sheepishly and booked it for the door.

"I don't mix business and pleasure, Mr. Jay!" she called in parting. She'd managed to grab her lost shoe during her maneuver across his desk but there was no time to put it back on. He was already surging to his feet as she shot out the door, a look on his face that reminded her of a tiger chasing down a wounded gazelle. Tottering down the stairs, she dashed into the crowd, trying her best to navigate the tight press of bodies. More than once, her bare toes got stomped by a careless foot and one particularly annoyed patron tried to clock her in the jaw with a finely manicured fist. Despite herself, she couldn't stop the giggles that poured out of her. Amy told herself it was just exhaustion and adrenaline mixing, but a more honest part of her knew that she _liked_ this. Craved the thrill of the literal chase, the heady mix of fear and arousal at not knowing what would happen if she were caught.

As she reached the front door, she could see Frost up on a dancer's platform yelling something into a device on his wrist. It was in vain, as she had already burst through the doors before the bouncers at the front could be forewarned. She ran faster than she thought possible down the street, simultaneously fishing out her car keys. Her car door wasn't even closed before she was screeching into the street, earning her an angry blare of the horn from the guy she had just cut off.

It wasn't until she had looped around random roads at least three times that she was satisfied that she wasn't being followed. There was a good chance he had already figured out where she lived, but there was no harm in being a little extra cautious.

What a _fucking _night. She didn't know how Jay would respond to her rejection, but she hoped that he needed her to do this job enough to let it slide. She'd get in touch with Frost first thing tomorrow to talk shop. Right now though, she was only planning how to get to her bed as quickly as possible.

She locked the sight of Jay kneeling in front of her, mouth nearly watering in anticipation of tasting her, firmly into her memory. If Amy couldn't have him for real, at least now she had a tiny glimpse to fuel her private fantasies.

Thank you everyone for your comments, follows, etc! I really appreciate it. I just watched Birds of Prey so I am super re-inspired to dive back into this universe. Hopefully that will carry me to the end of this story. While I have nothing but love for Harley Quinn, but she will not be making an appearance in this story.

Xoxo


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